All the Difference
by slimwhistler
Summary: After her trip to LA, Addison needs to find out something. 6.28.07: Munchkins!
1. At the Divergence

**Title**: All the Difference

**Author**: slimwhistler

**Pairing**: Alex/Addison

**Disclaimer**: They belong to Shonda and friends, not me.

**Summary**: After her trip to LA, Addison needs to find out something.

Okay, so this is my first GA fic ever, and therefore my first Alex/Addison. I'd like to thank my betas for all of their help and encouragement. I'm thinking this may have three or four parts, with the possibility of more chapters and/or other stories in the same universe if I can figure them out. Let me know what you think, and if you'd like me to continue…feedback is love.

Oh, yeah…I know the chapter title might seem like it's hitting you over the head with the reference, but it refused to be called anything else…I tried, I really did.

* * *

All roads lead to Meredith Grey, thinks Addison wryly as she gazes up at the door of the house that has surely become La Maison Intern. But she knocks anyway, because that door also leads to the enigmatic young intern who refuses to leave her thoughts.

She went to LA to try to reconnect with herself, out of a sudden desperate need to feel the sun on her skin, to be free of the pall that Derek and Mark cast over everything, the inevitability of Callie's heartbreak. And, of course, to distance herself from her certainly ill-advised preoccupation with Alex Karev.

And it had worked. The weeks in LA had centered her, the reminiscing with old friends shoring up the shaky foundation of her sense of self, reminding her of who she was and what she wanted. The miles of open road and the feel of the wind whipping through her hair had carried away much of the sting of Derek and Mark while the time spent with friends had cemented her resolve to help Callie in whatever way she needed.

Yes, LA had done it, had allowed her to take control of her life again. One aspect, however, remained unresolved.

Alex.

Her thoughts of him had remained impermeable to the hours of retail therapy and spa time she had indulged in, completely resistant to her people-watching on the beach, and had even persisted through an evening of endless margaritas and freshly made guacamole. She had pictured him there through all of it: laughing at her primping and pampering (even as his eyes smoldered at the results); insisting that he could drink her under the table (even as he disparaged her margaritas as being too girly); and mocking the perennial perkiness and disingenuousness of the young and beautiful in LA (even as he refused to leave the hotel room wearing anything but a sleeveless shirt himself). She had even (and this is when she decided that her mission to forget him had utterly failed) imagined him sitting with her on the beach at dusk, his arms solid and warm as they encircled her.

And so now she stands here, in front of his door, in the face of all that is rational and sensible. She has an offer waiting for her in LA, one that she should be jumping at, one that would allow her to leave the dampness and heartache of Seattle behind. But she can't accept it, not without finding out from a certain prickly intern whether frenzied sex in a linen closet, followed by a night of slow lovemaking in a hotel bed, could be the start of something more.

No one answers and she wonders whether he's spending his day off enjoying the rare sunshine. She rings the bell and knocks again, reluctant to relinquish the chance of speaking with him without his fellow interns listening around a corner. When she finally hears the sound of footsteps, she smoothes her hair and takes a deep breath, telling the ridiculous, traitorous butterflies in her gut to buzz off and mind their own damn business. She knocks again for good measure, because the butterflies aren't diminishing, and her only alternative is turning around and running like hell. She hears a "Yeah, yeah, coming," followed by a thump and a muffled curse and then suddenly the door swings open and she's face to face with Alex Karev.

* * *

Of all the people he might have expected to find on his doorstep on a Thursday afternoon, Addison Montgomery is nowhere near the top of the list. Alex is suddenly grateful he decided to answer the door rather than simply slinging another pillow on top of his head although he can't help but wonder if she's some sort of drug-induced hallucination or wish fulfillment or something, because seriously, her, here? Not something that would happen outside of his head.

* * *

He's staring at her. He's barefoot, in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and one of his tank tops (she refuses to call them wifebeaters), and his hair is sticking up in tufts. He looks rumpled and groggy, and his eyes are still heavy with sleep. He looks wonderful.

Wonderful or not, since he doesn't appear to be capable of anything but staring at her at the moment, she decides she'd better start. When in doubt, go for something approaching levity. "Sleeping in the middle of the day, Karev?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"Um. Addison, Dr. Montgomery, hi."

She frowns. His voice is too raspy, even for someone who's just woken up. "I heard you had the day off, so I thought I'd come by and see if you were home, but…are you sick?"

"Yeah, sorta." He rubs the back of his neck. "Bronchitis. I was working, and all, but then Bailey caught me sleeping standing up, drooling on an armful of charts." He grimaces. "Anyway, she and the Chief made me take some time. I'd be bored as hell. If I wasn't sleeping all the time, I mean."

Feeling suddenly awkward, and somehow vaguely ashamed of herself, Addison apologizes. "I'm sorry, Alex. I guess I should have called, or something. No one said you were sick. I'll just go."

She turns to leave, but his voice stops her. "Hey, don't do that. I should probably eat something anyway. No point in you coming over here for nothing. Come in."

Smiling uncertainly, she gives a little nod and follows him into the house.

* * *

Okay, so she's definitely not a hallucination, which, all things considered, is probably a good thing. However, this does leave him with the problem of making a generally favorable impression, something that usually eludes him even _with_ all cylinders firing. Plus, the whole staring-dumbly-with-bedhead thing probably already cost him a few points.

He makes his way to the kitchen, figuring that the intricacies of sandwich-making will excuse any preoccupation, while the gathering of ingredients will give him plenty of opportunities to surreptitiously check her out.

First thing's first, however. "You want tea?" he asks, filling the kettle.

Addison blinks, looking surprised. "You drink tea?"

He shakes his head and chuckles, wincing when the laugh ends on a cough. "I do. I'm not a complete Neanderthal, you know. Anyways, I'm sick." She smiles and murmurs a thank you, and he moves on to the fridge. "Besides, if my mom found out I wasn't taking care of myself, you'd hear the screaming all the way from Iowa."

She laughs at that, and he turns to look at her. "So, LA was good? It looks like it agreed with you."

She grins and suddenly he's insanely jealous of that city of smog and palm trees because he's never seen her look so genuinely happy before. He wishes he could have figured out how to put that look on her face.

"It was great," she says. "Tons of sun, the beach, good friends, and designer shoes. What more could a girl ask for?"

Her shoes are pretty impressive, some of those flimsy, strappy things that he's never been able to figure out…how do women stay upright in them, anyway? But she makes them look good, so what does he care? Besides, it's probably a rich people rule that you have to wear designer shoes with designer clothes, and her outfit definitely appears to be designer: a simple white skirt and a sleeveless top in two shades of yellow gold that sets off her tan and the new glints of gold in her hair. As he hands her a mug of tea, he notices the new scattering of golden brown freckles across her nose and the impulse to kiss every one of them hits him like a sudden punch to the gut. He's staring again and she's looking at him funny, so he clears his throat hastily. "Well, the shoes don't really do anything for me, but the rest of it sounds pretty good." He glances away. "They, uh, they make you an offer down there?"

"They did."

"A good one?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if to say, 'have you forgotten who I _am_?,' and he shakes his head. "Right, yeah. Stupid question." He swallows. "So…you take it? Is that what you came by to tell me?"

"I…I haven't decided yet."

He takes an angry bite from his sandwich. "What's to decide? Hell, if I were you, I couldn't wait to get out of here. Away from the rain, and all the ex-assholes, and everything. You've got friends there. They even have your shoes." He tries to turn the last bit into a joke but fails, and so he just stands there, holding his sandwich like an idiot, staring into eyes swirling with uncertainty and a touch of hurt.

* * *

His dark eyes are boring into hers, and suddenly her legs feel just a bit unsteady. Still, she manages to get the question out: "Are you telling me to leave, Alex?"

"Why would you stay?"

He glances down at his feet, and suddenly she can't stand it anymore. She moves forward, and then her hands are resting on his arms, and she's so close she can see the flecks of copper in his eyes. "I don't know," she breathes. "You tell me." And then there's no more need for talking, because she's kissing him, bronchitis and all, and she thinks maybe she should care more about that. But then his arms are around her and he's kissing her back, and she decides that, no, she really doesn't care at all.


	2. Feeling the Way

**Title**: All the Difference: Feeling the Way

**Pairing**: Alex/Addison

**Disclaimer**: They belong to Shonda and friends, not me.

**Summary**: After her trip to LA, Addison needs to find out something.

Here's the next part, guys. Many thanks to my betas for cheering me on. I'm really glad I managed to finish this section before the ep last night, because otherwise it would have taken me longer to write this up. I'm not feeling the urge to be too nice to Alex at the moment. However, last night I wanted to smack him, so I'm making progress. I could probably still use some poking on getting the last piece finished up, though. Yes, I'm planning on having one more part to this particular story, and then doing more fics/oneshots in the same universe. Thanks for all the feedback…you guys are awesome!

* * *

Addison isn't really sure what she expected would happen after she showed up at his door, but she does know that his looking like he's about to keel over after kissing her isn't it.

* * *

Oh, man. This totally blows. "I, um, think I better, ah, sit." Alex reaches behind him, feeling for a chair, and very nearly lets out an extremely unmanly gasp of relief when he finds one. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Wow." He rubs his spinning head and tries not to think of what an ass he just made of himself.

"Are you okay?"

He looks up at her. Her eyes are wide and her forehead is crinkled in concern. "Yeah, no, I'm fine. I just got really woozy all of a sudden. This damn bronchitis. One second I feel fine, the next I'm so tired I could drop."

"The kissing probably didn't help the shortness of breath at all, either. Do you have a fever?"

"A mild one, yeah."

She huffs out a breath and drags a hand through her hair. "Alex, why didn't you just say something? Tell me to go, or just to come back later?"

"Maybe because I wanted to see you."

She flushes a little, but continues. "I'm glad, but you shouldn't make yourself sicker just to see me!"

"Addison, I doubt you've made me take a turn for the worse in the half-hour you've been here, okay? Just chill."

Her pointed response dies on her lips when she reminds herself that he is, in fact, sick. She takes a deep breath. "I just…I'm sorry. That you're sick."

"Isn't your fault."

"I know that, but…" She pauses. "Look. Will you just let me care, for just one single second, please? That's all I need. Then I can, you know, go back to yelling at you."

"'Cause God knows I love it when you yell at me. You do it so well, too."

"Alex, I swear to God…"

He gets up, gingerly, and walks over to place his hands on her shoulders. "I get it, Addison. I do. And for the record, me too. With the caring thing. Now, do you think we could maybe postpone the rest of the yelling? I seriously have to lie down."

* * *

For some unexplainable reason, as she watches him stumble towards the stairs, Addison swears she can feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She doesn't know why. It's not as though he made some sort of grand declaration of everlasting love or something. On the contrary, his words had been awkward and somewhat cryptic, and "love" hadn't come in anywhere. But they were…_real_, and honest, and suddenly Addison finds his halting honesty more tender than any flowery sentiments could ever be.

Steeling herself, she walks toward the stairs. "Alex."

He turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question. "Hmmm?"

"Come with me. Back to the hotel."

He rubs a hand over his face. "Addison," he begins, "you have no idea how much I hate to say this, but I'm really not up to sex right now."

"I wasn't actually talking about sex. I mean, we can, if you want, but…you could just sleep."

"Just sleep. In your hotel room."

"Yeah."

"Huh." A tiny smile appears on his face. "Okay."

* * *

His day is steadily becoming more and more…unexpected, that's the word. Right now he's sitting in the passenger seat of her car, watching through half-closed eyelids as she drives them to her hotel. She's tapping the steering wheel, and every so often she glances over at him and gives a quick smile.

After he'd agreed to go back with her, things seemed to happen very quickly. He went upstairs to grab some things (he'd refused her offer of help, because hello?...dirty laundry everywhere) packing some clothes, his pager, and his phone as quickly as his foggy head would allow. After that it was back to the kitchen for his industrial strength meds, his tea, and his Iowa State mug. He left a message for Izzie on the whiteboard ('Iz. Staying with a friend. I'll call later. No worries. A.) and grabbed his jacket.

All he was supposed to be doing today was sleeping and maybe watching some crappy reruns on TV. Instead, he's sitting here, in her car, on the way to her hotel.

It's just…weird.

* * *

He falls asleep on the way over, and so she has to shake him awake. She keeps an eye on him as they walk through the hotel, ready to steer him in the right direction with a hand if necessary. Once they reach her suite, he heads immediately for the bedroom, and she watches as he rearranges the pillows and settles in. Clearly, he doesn't need her for anything, so she nods towards the sitting area. "I'm gonna, just…"

"'Kay, good," he mumbles, and she suspects he's already half-asleep.

She closes the door and then leans against it, and she congratulates herself on the utter awkwardness of the situation she's created. There's an intern, so ill that he nearly passed out from kissing her, asleep in her bed, and she has absolutely no idea what to do next.

Suddenly something clicks in her mind. Lips set resolutely, she reaches for her phone.

* * *

Callie answers on the second ring. "You go over there?"

"How could you not tell me he was sick?" she hisses.

"Because if I had, you wouldn't have gone over there."

"Callie!"

"So what happened?"

"What do you mean, what happened? He's _sick!"_

"Addison."

"Ugh. So I kissed him, okay? I kissed him and he almost fell over and now he's here and I have no idea what to do."

"Wait. He fell _over_?"

"He _almost_ did."

"Huh. How'd that happen?"

"He's _sick_, Callie!" she explodes. More quietly: "Look. I told him he could come back here with me and now he's sleeping in the next room, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Well, he's sick, right?"

"I think we've established that."

"Work with me here, Addison. People need stuff when they're home sick. Orange juice, crackers, cough syrup, that kind of stuff. Do you have any of that?"

"Not exactly."

"Well there you go."

"That was embarrassingly easy."

"Yeah." Callie pauses. "Listen, just take it in stride, okay? Don't worry too much. Besides," she continues, "you already know he wants you."

Addison snorts. "Yeah." They're both silent. "Callie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

* * *

An hour later she slips back into the room, laden down with bags. She has orange juice and water and crackers, as well as cough drops and more tea. She has grapes, because fruit is good, and if he doesn't eat them, she will. She has chocolate because she thinks she might need it, and magazines because she's too jittery to concentrate on journal articles. She's in the process of shoving things into the fridge when Alex's phone, lying on the table where he tossed it, begins to ring.

Approaching it cautiously, she's unsure of how to proceed. She doesn't want to answer it, because it's _his_ phone, but she wants to wake him even less. Decided, she snatches it up and answers quickly. "Hello?"

"Aleksei?"

Who? "Ah, this is Alex Karev's phone."

"Oh. Well, may I speak with him, please?"

Confused, Addison looks at the display. One glance, and her heart sinks.

_Mom_.

Addison has a sudden impulse to bang her head against a wall for the rest of the century. But first she has to answer. "Well, he's actually sleeping right now, but I'd be happy to ta-

"Addison?" Alex appears in the bedroom doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Who is it?"

"Your mother," she mouths, wincing.

Giving a little grin, Alex ambles forward to take the phone. "Hey, Ma…Nah, I'm okay. Just sleeping a lot and stuff… I dunno. Bailey said to take the rest of the week off, but maybe…_Ma_…Okay, okay, I promise I won't rush it…Nope, that wasn't Izzie. Or Meredith. I'm sort of staying with a friend right now…Well, it's really crowded over there when everyone's home. People are always wandering in. It's quiet here…Yeah, that too…Seriously, Mom. Jeez…Okay…Okay, yeah…I will…Hey, say hi to Amy and the kids for me…Yeah…Yeah…Love you too, Ma…Bye.

He closes the phone, looking somewhat abashed. "My mom."

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that one."

"She worries, you know?"

"Moms generally do."

"Yeah."

"So. Aleksei?"

"You caught that, huh?"

"Oh, yes."

"Hey, you got stuff!"

"Oh, no. You are not getting out of this one, Alex, excuse me, _Aleksei_, Karev. This is far too good. So. Spill."

Ruefully shaking his head, he moves to the armchair across from her. "It was my grandpop's name. My mom's dad. He came over here from Russia. Married my grandma, worked as a mechanic. When my mom was about twelve, my grandma died, so she and Grandpop got pretty close. I came along when my mom was about 19, and he wasn't too happy about her being pregnant, so she named me after him. That's pretty much it."

"What about your dad?"

"They weren't married then, and he was out on the road, so I guess when she finally got hold of him he was too wasted to give a crap what my name was. It pissed him off when he got home, though, but by then it was too late to change it. He always called me Alex."

"You never went by your full name?"

"Are you kidding? I would have gotten beat up even more at school, and I didn't…anyway. I don't actually mind it though, really. My grandpop was a cool guy. He was huge, with these big hands, but he wasn't a tough guy, you know? For a while there my mom and I lived with him when my dad was out on the road. He used to get me ice cream cones, let me help him at the garage and stuff. I think we built a birdhouse once, or something."

"He sounds nice."

"Yeah. Yeah, he was. He died when I was about ten." He stares intently at his hands, fiddling with a fingernail. "Sometimes I think things would have been different later on, if…"

"If…"

"If he'd been around." He clears his throat, coughs.

Sensing that he's gone as far as he's willing, Addison offers some information of her own. "I never liked my name much, you know."

"Huh?"

"Addison. I never liked it much."

"Why?"

"I always thought it made me sound, I don't know, snooty."

"Dude, you _are_ snooty."

She narrows her eyes at him, but she's also pleased to see that he's grinning despite his evident fatigue. "Tread carefully, Dr. Karev."

"Hey, I'm just saying…"

"Tread very, very carefully."

"Okay, okay." He looks around the room. "Hey, you got any food around this place?"

She waves a hand at the bags. "Behold. Food. Some, anyway," she amends. "Nothing for a real meal. We can get room service. You should have some soup."

"I'm sick of soup," he grouses. "Izzie's been making me this homemade soup, pushing it at me all the time. It's getting really annoying."

"Well, you should have the soup anyway. It's good for you, and besides, it's what sick people are supposed to eat."

"Is that your medical opinion, Dr. Montgomery?"

"You bet your ass, Dr. Karev."

"Fine then. Order me the damn soup."

* * *

"Do you really think I'm snooty?"

He smiles. Despite being sick, and so damned tired again, he feels good. They ate their dinner in bed. He had the dreaded soup and part of an omelet, and she ate a salad. Afterwards, they found an episode of _Gilligan's Island_ to watch. Addison laughed at parts, and between seeing her happy and remembering how he used to watch the show with his sister, he found he didn't mind it at all.

Now they're lying curled up on the bed. Her head is pillowed oh his arm, and she's turned towards him. "Occasionally, yeah," he answers. "Not that you don't have reason to be, sometimes. Anyways, it's kind of a turn-on."

She sighs. "You know, I always told myself I wasn't going to be one of those snobby, snotty rich women who look down their noses at everything and everyone. I guess I failed."

"Hey." He moves closer. "I said it was only sometimes, and never when it matters. Hell, I'm an ass a lot more often than sometimes, and you're still lying here with me. I can't be a total dick then, right?"

Even though she's sniffling, she still manages to laugh. "Right."

"Anyway, snooty isn't the only thing you are."

"No?"

"No. You're a damned incredible doctor. You can get pretty spazzy sometimes, but you're phenomenal in a crisis. You're strong, and you get people. You just know how to talk to them, calm them down, make them feel better just by being there. It's pretty amazing. But even with all that, you never pretend you're invincible. He stops. "How'm I doing?"

"Pretty good."

Damn. She's doing that sniffling thing again. Time for him to say something predictable. "You're also like totally hot." Hey, just because it's predictable doesn't mean it isn't true.

"Alex."

"What? It's true. You're gorgeous and you just have to live with it. Poor you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Okay, false modesty? _Not _a turn-on."

She opens her mouth and then shuts it again, and he continues. "Even when I hated your guts I thought you were gorgeous, and I'm a guy who makes a point out of finding flaws in every person, male or female, who pisses him off. So if that's not proof…"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point. I am gorgeous."

"Thank you." He strokes her hair. "It's funny, I never thought I'd fall for a redhead, though. Usually too scary."

"Well, thank goodness there's some blond in there now," she says dryly.

"I thought something was different."

"Yes, well, I thought it was kind of a duty, being in California and all. And, considering the disaster that was my last blonde experience, I figured I'd better go for something more subtle this time."

"You were a blonde?"

"For a few unfortunate days, yes."

"Huh." Interesting.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just trying to picture it."

"Don't. I looked horrendous."

"It can't have been that bad."

"Trust me. Mark freaked."

He snorts. "Yeah, and we know how great _his_ judgment is."

"Yes. Anyway."

"Yeah."

They're quiet for a few minutes. Alex starts to drift off, but he feels the need to say one last thing before he falls asleep, even if it makes him sound like an idiot.

"Addison?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm glad you went back to the red. With your hair, I mean. I like it. Just so you know, though, if you were a blonde I'd still think you were hot."

"Okay."

Satisfied, he turns over on his other side and pulls up the covers.

The last thing he remembers before he finally closes his eyes, though, is her hand stroking up and down his arm.


	3. when the world is puddle wonderful

**All the Difference, Part 3 and Coda  
**Title: All the Difference, Part 3 and Coda  
Pairing: Alex/Addison  
Disclaimer: They belong to Shonda and friends, not me.  
Summary: After her trip to LA, Addison needs to find out something.

We've come to the end, all. Many thanks to my betas for being an awesome cheering section. Don't worry, though...you'll be seeing more in this universe. If you have anything you might like to see happen, let me know and I'll see what I can do! Please let me know what you think, because I'm really, really fond of this fic. Feedback will make my last day of undergraduate classes even more awesome. ;0P

Oh yeah, the title doesn't really have anything to do with the plot...I just love the line of poetry, and I think it captures the feeling of it, anyway. 

* * *

He sleeps for the next two days. She reads her journal articles and wakes him up periodically so he can take his meds and eat. They watch more _Gilligan's Island_ ("I always did have kind of a thing for Ginger," he says, raising an eyebrow), and she rubs his back when he coughs.

Friday afternoon she calls Bailey, because she knows he's not ready for work yet and doesn't want him to get in any trouble. She takes a deep breath before she calls and tries to prepare herself to nonchalantly withstand Bailey's certain interrogation, but in the end it makes no difference.

* * *

"Miranda Bailey."

"Miranda? Hi, it's Addison. Addison Montgomery."

"Addison. Good to hear from you. How's your trip been?"

"It was good. Great. I'm back in Seattle now, though."

"You decided not to stay?"

"No, I think I'm going to try and make a go of it here."

"Well, that's good news. Now, what can I do for you?"

Addison smiles, because Bailey is just as blunt as ever. She thinks that something would be terribly wrong with the world if she weren't. "Actually, it's about Alex Karev."

"Uh-huh."

Shit. "I heard he had some time off, so I dropped in on him yesterday, and…well, I don't think he'll be ready to come back to work until Monday, maybe later. He seems…_seemed_… pretty exhausted."

"I'm not surprised. That man has been working day and night for the past three weeks. Ever since you left for LA, in fact. You have any idea why that might be?"

"Uh, no. I, ah, have no idea. Absolutely none."

"I had to make him go home, more than once, and I have enough to do without babysitting that fool. Tell him to call me Sunday night, we'll see how he's doing. Until then, he's going to rest. It gonna be a problem for you to let him know?"

Even though she can't see Bailey, Addison still has an incredible urge to squirm. "No, no problem at all, Miranda."

"I didn't think so."

Addison feels as though she wants to crawl into a hole and stay there for a good, long while. Still, she tries to end the phone call with some dignity. "Right. I'll do that, then. It was good to speak with you, Miranda."

"Addison."

"Yes?"

"If this ends with you getting drunk at Joe's again, please don't do it while I'm there."

"Sure. No problem."

"Thank you."

Well, thinks Addison as she hangs up the phone, bringing a hand up to a flaming cheek, at least it wasn't any more mortifying than she expected.

* * *

Sunday morning Alex wakes up with a clear head and an energy he hasn't felt in days. The sun filtering in through the curtains fills him with the need to get up and _do_, so he rolls over to observe the bed's other occupant.

She's fast asleep, her face half turned into the pillow. Her hair is mussed and her cheeks are flushed, and her t-shirt has slipped to bare one shoulder. There are freckles dotting the creamy skin there, too, and Alex wants to reach out and ghost his fingers over them, then carefully suck and nibble each one. But he's still not sure exactly what they're doing, and besides, there's no way he's going to disturb a woman who's spent the last three days taking care of him. So instead he simply toys with a lock of red-gold hair and waits for her to wake.

Eventually, she begins to stir. Still half-asleep she stretches, arching her back like a cat. Alex has to bite his lip, hard, because she's so damn sexy and he doesn't know yet whether she's the kind of woman who likes to be ravished before she's awake enough to even mumble a hello. But then her eyes open, and she blinks at him and smiles drowsily. "Hey."

Her voice is warm and husky, and he reaches out to rub her shoulder. "Hey."

"How're you feeling?"

He smiles. "Better, thanks. How 'bout you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm good," she says, and yawns, not covering her mouth until the last second. "Still sleepy, obviously," she admits with a laugh, running a hand through her hair.

"Well, it's no wonder, taking care of me the past few days."

"Alex, you were asleep most of the time. I hardly did anything."

"So? You stayed here, the whole time. The only other people who've ever done anything like that for me are my mom and my sister. It wasn't nothing," he insists, stroking his thumb over the curve of her cheek.

She shifts under his touch and lowers her eyes. "I wanted to," she says softly.

"Yeah. I know. Thanks. Just let me return the favor sometime, okay?"

The smile she gives him is almost wondering. "I think I can manage that."

* * *

Addison can't quite believe that they've both been awake for a whole half an hour and they haven't even kissed yet. But he'd just rolled out of bed, saying, "Hey, I'm pretty rank. You mind if I grab a shower?" She'd simply nodded at him. She'd nearly made a comment about the merits of conserving water, but something had held her back. After all, she had been the one to drag him from his sickbed over here, so if anyone is going to make the first move it should be him.

He emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in a t-shirt and cargo shorts, and Addison is suddenly reminded of just how young he is, and how attractive. "Hey," he says, rubbing his head with a towel.

"Hey," she replies. "I, ah, I ordered some breakfast. It should be here in a few minutes."

"Oh, cool. Thanks."

"Well, I guess I'll just get a shower now, then."

"Go for it." He smiles at her. Thanks to the rubbing, his hair is disheveled and sticking up in spikes, and she has the sudden impulse to go and smooth them down. Remembering her earlier vow, however, she contents herself with simply brushing against him on her way into the bathroom and catching the spicy scent of his skin.

* * *

Man, he seriously cannot believe that he hasn't even made a move on her yet. He just…he doesn't want to screw this up, make her think it's all about sex. He does want to have sex, lots of it, but it's more than that. He thinks he might just want _her_. Of course, he totally sucks at this sort of thing, so he has no idea of what he's technically supposed to do next, or whether sex is even allowed at this point. Besides, this is her hotel room and everything, so he doesn't really feel right doing anything…at least until she gives him some sort of go-ahead, anyway.

* * *

He's digging into the newly-arrived breakfast when she emerges from the bathroom. Her hair is dark and wet, slicked back from her face, emphasizing the blue of her eyes. His pulse picks up when he realizes that she's wearing nothing but a fluffy, white robe, and he's suddenly grateful that he has his breakfast with which to occupy himself.

* * *

As she pours herself a cup of coffee, Addison is very conscious of the fact that she's sitting at the breakfast table in her robe. She's fairly sure she saw something flare in his eyes when she came out, but other than that he seems perfectly content to apply himself to his omelet and hashbrowns. When he finally says something, it's nothing like what she expects.

"So, I was thinking. You wanna go to the park or something?"

"The park?" she repeats dumbly.

"Yeah. I've been inside for days; I've gotta get out or I'll go crazy. Besides, it's sunny out. I know you probably got more than enough sun in California and all, but…"

What the hell. "Hey, you can never have enough sunshine. That sounds good. Let's do it." Actually, strolling around in a park with him has a surprising amount of appeal.

"Yeah?" He gives her a small, pleased smile. "Cool."

Satisfied, and somehow excited, Addison bites into her melon.

"Oh," he says suddenly, "we should probably stop by the house on the way. I should get some stuff."

Always a catch, she thinks.

* * *

Addison stares up at the house, her stomach filled with the same sort of butterflies that visited her three days ago. This time they're there for a different reason, though. By going into that house with him, she's announcing for the first time that they're involved, and she has to do it in front of her ex-husband and who knows how many of the other interns. Extremely conscious of this, she'd stood in front of her closet for a long time, trying to decide what could possibly be appropriate for a situation like this. He had snickered when he found her, saying, "Dude, we're going to the park, not an Oscar party." As a result, she's wearing capris and sandals and a sleeveless green shirt, about as casual as she'll get in public, which is definitely not helping to calm her nerves.

Alex is already nearing the porch before he turns and sees her. "You coming?" he asks.

"Yeah," she replies gamely, but she can see he knows something is up, and he heads back towards her.

"Look. It'll be five minutes tops, I swear. In and out. Besides, you know they're just going to stare at you through the windows if you don't come in, right?"

That decides it. "Let's go," she declares robustly, and he grins.

As soon as he steps through the doorway, Alex is accosted by an aproned, flour-bedaubed Izzie, who reminds Addison of nothing so much as a very eager, very hyperactive puppy. "Alex! Hey! God, we haven't seen you for days! Where've you been? Are you feeling better? I tried to call you, but…" She trails off when she notices Addison. "Oh, wow, Dr. Montgomery, hi."

"Hello, Stevens."

"You're back!"

"That I am."

"Back from LA. Huh. Well, do you guys want some breakfast? I made blueberry pancakes. Although I guess technically it's brunch now rather than breakfast, it's getting kinda late, but…"

"No thanks Iz, we already ate," Alex interjects. "I just came back to grab some stuff, so…" he glances at her quickly and then heads up the stairs.

Though Addison would like nothing better than to follow him, she's left standing in the foyer with a slightly confused-looking Izzie Stevens. Not knowing what else to do, she clears her throat. This seems to wake up Izzie, who offers, "Um, do you want to come into the kitchen or something?"

Addison nods and follows Izzie into the homey room, only to be confronted with the image of her ex-husband and his girlfriend cozied up over the crossword and matching bowls of granola. "Derek."

Turning from Meredith, the surprise registers on his face. "Addison. You're back. And…here. On a Sunday. How odd."

"It's a small world."

"Mmmm. Apparently so."

"Was that Alex I saw come in?" This from Meredith, who glances from the doorway to Addison and back again, a little grin appearing on her face.

Derek catches on, breaking into a shit-eating grin of his own. "So. Addison. When did you say you got back into town, again?"

"I didn't," she replies flatly.

"Ah. So your appearing at the door with Karev is just coincidence, then."

"Just coincidence."

"Mmmm."

Addison is saved from trying to think up a response by Alex coming up behind her. "Hey. Got everything. You ready to go? Oh, hey guys," he says, nodding at Meredith and Derek.

"I'm ready," she says.

"Cool. See you later, guys." He makes for the door. She nods at Meredith, who's still aiming that funny little smile at her; makes a face at Derek, who's smirking insufferably; and smiles at Izzie, who merely looks confused.

"Have a nice day, Addison," Derek singsongs as she exits.

"I'm planning on it," Addison thinks, as she shuts the door with a bit more force than necessary.

* * *

They end up at Elliott Bay Park, munching on gyro sandwiches as they wander and take in the view. Alex insists on buying her a strawberry ice cream cone when she can't stop staring at the booth, and though she feels about twelve, Addison enjoys every last bit.

When they decide to stop, Alex produces a ratty old throw blanket from his bag and spreads it on the ground. Raising an eyebrow at him, she stretches out, leaning on her elbows and tipping her face back to catch the sun. She can feel his eyes on her but says nothing, enjoying the perfect peace of the moment.

A few minutes later she feels a tap on her arm, and looks over to see him offering a bottle of spray-on sunscreen. "You probably have some expensive stuff you normally use, but sunburns suck, you know?"

She takes it, touched; even though her moisturizer already has sunscreen in it, she figures more can't hurt. She applies it to her arms and legs first, moving up to her shoulders. "You, uh, you need any help, or you got it?" he asks.

Addison considers. "Would you mind getting my back?"

His hands knead the cool spray into her shoulders, smoothing down her back, and Addison sighs with pleasure. She basks in the feeling, and she thinks that she would die a happy woman if he'd just keep doing this forever.

Suddenly, however, he stops. "Oh, hey, I forgot," he says, grabbing his bag. He rummages around for a moment and then produces a bright green Frisbee.

Addison is confused. "A Frisbee?"

"Yup."

"What did you bring a Frisbee for?"

"To play with."

"You want me to play Frisbee?"

"Why not?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, you'd rather I show you wrestling moves?"

She just can't let that one go by. "Why Dr. Karev," she purrs, "are you propositioning me?"

He grins, half cocky, half abashed, but doesn't respond. Instead, he waits a moment, and then offers: "I get it, you know, if you're worried about breaking a nail or something."

She narrows her eyes, takes in his smirk, and decides. Screw her insanely expensive manicure. "Okay, Dr. Karev. You're on."

* * *

Frisbee, she decides later, is not her sport. He has to show her how to throw it, repeatedly, but she doesn't really mind, as it's an excuse to get him close. Eventually she gets it, but only after making a complete fool of herself. Worn out, she collapses onto the blanket, and in a moment he joins her, grabbing a bottle of water. He takes a drink, then offers it. "You want some?"

Limply, eyes still closed, she extends an arm, expecting him to place it in her hand. Instead, she feels a sudden stream of water hit her face. She shrieks, and opens her eyes to see him aiming the nozzle of the bottle at her. Lunging at him, she tries to snatch the bottle away, but he's too quick. Almost before she knows it, he's got her pinned to the blanket, an arm on either side. His face is suspended inches above hers, and she can see his pulse throbbing at his temple. His eyes rake over her face, as if he's trying to memorize every detail.

"Alex?" she whispers.

Suddenly his lips crash down over hers, his tongue thrusting its way into her mouth. Their bodies are pressed close and her nostrils fill with his scent, a heady mixture of spice and sweat. He kisses her, kisses her until she forgets where they are, until she forgets her own name, until she even forgets to breathe.

Air is something of a necessity though, even for him, so finally he releases her. Stunned, she simply lies there, panting. "Alex, wh-what?"

He leans close, his lips brushing her ear. "I always save the wrestling moves for last," he murmurs.

* * *

Coda:

Neither of them is bright and shiny. They both have terrible tempers, and they argue loudly and often. She yells. He gives her that scornful stare and makes cutting remarks. After their first big fight, he storms out without a word and ends up spending the night at Meredith's. When he returns to her place the next morning, he finds her curled up in an armchair wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, her face blotchy and streaked with mascara.

He tries to storm out for only a few hours at a time after that.

She never asks about the two-oddly shaped scars on his shoulder, but she always kisses them when they make love. One night, his face pressed half into the pillow, he tells her himself.

At work he unfailingly calls her Dr. Montgomery. She has to remind herself to address him as Dr. Karev. They generally avoid making out on hospital property, but he always knows exactly how to best rub her shoulders after a bad day.

She stops worrying about peeing on a stick after she meets his niece and nephew. Seeing Nate's dark eyes sparkle up at her from underneath a mop of sunstreaked brown hair, watching tiny, timid Jenna make a beeline for her "Lex," she reflects that it wouldn't be a bad thing at all.

He hates feeling boxed in, so she learns not to push too much. He's skittish, but if she leaves him be for awhile he usually comes around on his own.

She never actually asks him to move in, but one day he looks around and realizes that most of his stuff is in her new house and he can't remember the last time he stayed at Meredith's. Even more surprisingly, he realizes that he doesn't mind.

He's not Derek, who she somehow always felt lesser than, and he's not Mark, who she was always expecting to screw up. He's Alex. They're both equally flawed in their own ways, and they accept that about one another.

It's not perfect; in fact it's far from it. But it's theirs.


	4. Tempering

Title: All the Difference: Tempering  
Pairing: Alex/Addison  
Disclaimer: They belong to Shonda and friends, not me.   
Summary: An elaboration of the fight mentioned in the coda following part three of All the Difference proper

Despite the assurances of the fabulous sweetnarcosis, I'm still not sure that parts of this don't suck, but I've been wrestling with it for over a month, so here it is. Feedback would be most appreciated, especially since I'm unsure about the flow and characterization. I still hope you enjoy, though!

Cheers!

* * *

It must have been the pout that did it, Alex thinks. There's no other way she could have gotten him to agree to go to this fancy reception and dinner thing. Although he's learned how to counter most of her techniques, that pout, that wistful pout, is not something he's usually proof against.

He huffs out a breath as he pulls on his dress shirt. He'd forgotten how much he hates wearing a suit; he's never really felt like himself while wearing one, which is unfortunate, because he feels unsettled enough as it is. Although he's been acting fairly nonchalant, in truth the idea of this dinner makes him pretty damn nervous. It's for a bunch of Addison's colleagues from back east, many of them big name surgeons, in town for the same conference that Addison's been attending for the past three days. He's read their papers, envied their successes, and now he's showing up at _their_ dinner, simply because he's with Addison.

That's what bothers him the most, really. He's just Alex Karev, former jock and second year resident from fricking Iowa. There's no way he'd be getting near any of these people for years if it wasn't for Addison. He knows it, and he's pretty damn sure they're going to know it, too. But he told Addison he'd go, and there's no way he could live with himself if he backed out now.

Stifling another sigh, he ducks into the bathroom to grab his cologne. He doesn't stay in there long, because Addison's makeup and other gorgeous-making paraphernalia seems to have taken over, and the last thing he wants to do is knock over some hundred dollar bottle of something.

Back in the bedroom, he slips into his jacket and studies himself in the mirror, wondering if he really has to wear a tie. He hates wearing ties. He thinks he looks okay without, but he doesn't know these people, so… "Addison?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Do I have to wear a tie to this thing?"

"No, you don't _have_ to wear a tie, but…" She wanders into the room, screwing in an earring. She looks stunning, as usual, in a dress of bluish purple and a pair of her impressive heels. Looking up at him, she smiles, and then she stops. "God."

"What?" He shifts his weight nervously.

"You look _so_ good."

"Yeah?" He puffs up a bit.

"You look like you belong in a Gucci ad."

He chuckles. "I can assure you, Dr. Montgomery, that this is definitely _not_ Gucci."

"After staring at you for five minutes, who's going to care?"

He grins when he sees the heat in her eyes. Maybe this whole suit thing isn't so bad. "You sure you want to go to this thing tonight, gorgeous? We could stay here, I could peel off this suit real slow for you…"

"As tempting as that sounds, we're still going to go. It was a nice try, though." She rolls her eyes at him.

"Damn."

"Yup. Anyway, you might be surprised and actually learn something. Oh, hey," she says, rummaging around in her closet, "I have something for you."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Well, actually I just saw it the other day when I was out shopping. I was going to save it for your birthday, or something, but it actually goes really well with that shirt, so…here."

It's a tie. A really nice one, as far as he can tell, and much more expensive than he could ever afford, but…"You like it?" Addison asks.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it's really nice. Thanks."

"Well? Try it on!" she urges.

"Okay." He loops the tie around his neck, but her watching makes him nervous, and he fumbles with the knot.

"Turn around." He does, and she fixes it for him. It should feel sexy, her standing so close and smelling so good, and in a way it does, but he can't shake the funny feeling at the back of his mind that something's just gone off balance.

* * *

Alex flings himself into the driver's seat, closing the door with an angry snap. Addison sits beside him, clearly uncomfortable, which is just fine with him at the moment.

"Alex…" She hesitates, then continues. "Are you sure you should drive? You had a lot to drink."

"I can manage to drive you home, Addison," he says tersely.

And that's all they say until they're up in her suite. Alex just paces as she begins to change, and tries to come up with a way to deal with the resentment that's churning around inside of him.

He can't believe she made him go to that damn reception, that she stayed there willingly, even after it became clear that they, or more specifically he, had been designated the main gossip topic for the evening. It made his skin crawl, all the smarmy smiles and knowing looks, the questions that seemed harmless but were actually designed to make him feel like an inferior idiot. So he sought refuge in whiskey, especially since Addison had seemed determined to act as though nothing was going on.

He's pissed at her, but he's not sure exactly what for or how he wants to articulate it. He's fine with the pacing and the not talking, though. He really doesn't want to talk right now.

"So, that was…"

Or not. "Educational?" he sneers. "You betcha." Hey, if she's gonna expect him to talk then she has to deal with him being pissed.

"Oh, come on, Alex…"

"Wait, I'm sorry, I forgot that they didn't treat you like the gum on the bottom of their shoe all night."

Her voice rises to match his. "Well, maybe if you'd actually contributed something, instead of sitting there like a stone, they would have had a reason not to."

"Hey, I tried, okay? But most of the night they were talking about places I can't afford to go to and surgeries I haven't even seen. What exactly was I supposed to say?"

"Opinions? Questions? Anything?"

"And give them another excuse to be condescending and send each other those looks across the room? No thanks. Anyway, why the hell do you care if I talked or not?"

"I just wanted…"

"You just wanted me to impress them, right? To not embarrass you? To prove to yourself and to them that being with me isn't a huge mistake?"

"Alex, that's not…"

"They were eyeing me all night, you know. All damn night. Staring at 'Addison's intern,' her latest screw up. That's all I was to them. I guess that having your name on a few big publications gives you permission to be a pretentious jackass and treat everyone else like shit, though, right?"

"I don't know why you're so surprised, Alex, since you perfected the art of being a total jackass long before you ever had any publications. Oh, wait. Silly me. I forgot that you still don't." Her voice breaks a little, but her eyes are still hard and angry.

He's so not staying for this. "You know what? Screw this. Whatever." He heads for the door but suddenly whirls back around. "You know what? I really, really did not want to go tonight, but I did, because you asked, and I wanted to try. For you. I guess I must really be stupid, because I thought you wanted me, Alex. But you don't, do you? All you want is some boytoy you can hide behind to convince yourself and everyone else that you aren't a lonely, bitter woman whose life is a total fucking mess. That who you want? Be my guest, I don't care. But it won't be me." He stares at her coldly and then, with a jerk, wrenches the expensive tie off his neck. "And you can keep the fucking tie," he snaps.

* * *

As the door slams, Addison feels herself begin to shiver. Not because she's angry, although she guesses she should be after some of the things he said, and not because of the way he left, although she suspects that will begin to bother her later, but because she's not sure if some of the things he said aren't true.

She flops down into an armchair and stares off into space. She _did _want to impress people by bringing him to the reception, God help her. She knew that the gossip-hungry must have been feasting on the details of the collapse of her "storybook marriage,", and she had wanted to show them that not only was she not sad and alone, but that she had managed to catch a hot young thing as well.

She winces. Put that way, it really does sound awful, and exactly like those horrible friends of her mother's who used to boast of their dalliances with some instructor or waiter twenty years their junior. At eleven, Addison had vowed never to engage in something that demeaning. But, as with most things, real life was proving her eleven year-old ideals to be pretty damn hollow.

Even worse, she had known what Alex would be faced with tonight, the snobbery and the condescension. So why in hell had she asked him, _encouraged_ him to go? Why hadn't she been able to put her damned good breeding aside and told all those snobs to go to hell? Why had she just stood by and watched them treat him so poorly? You just didn't do that to someone you cared about.

For all of her encouraging, she had been surprised, even shocked, when he agreed to go. The Alex Karev she knew wouldn't have hesitated to tell her to take her party and shove it, if he felt so inclined. With a start, she realizes that his agreement had actually scared her.

He was _trying_. And the very fact that he, Alex Karev, was trying meant that whatever the two of them were doing had gone beyond fun and amusement to something approaching a relationship. In spite of all of her yearning for commitment, Addison feels petrified, because she's been burned too many times. Abandoned first by her mother, then Derek, and finally emotionally if not physically by Mark, she's not sure she could stand someone else leaving her.

And Alex's leaving her is inevitable. Isn't it? He's young, well young-_er_ anyway, and gorgeous; those bedroom eyes are irresistible, and only become more so once you learn what's behind them. There's no way he'd really want to shackle himself to a woman _several _years his senior, forget one who's his superior in the workplace; it's practically _guaranteed_ to end badly. Isn't it?

So. Her course is obvious. She has to end it, for both their sakes. But as she tries to reconcile herself to her decision, she finds that the idea of no longer having Alex in her life is a decidedly bleak one.

Because learning all the little things about him, things that she suspects few others actually know, has been _fun_. She knows that he loves MASH, especially Radar, and that his humming "Suicide is Painless" means he's happy. He sings off-key classic rock songs in the shower, and he always calls his mother on Sunday. She knows that he drove a battered red pickup of his grandfather's in high school that he named Dora. He hates doing laundry, and is adamant that yes, washing machines really do eat socks. She knows that he can cook surprisingly well, and that he learned because he was responsible for getting his sister fed when his mother worked late. He never minded watching her, apparently. Addison has discovered that Alex is like that; he's the first one to call himself a selfish jackass, yet he can be extraordinarily giving to those few that he actually allows himself to care about. To Addison, who's been fulfilling expectations all her life, he's fascinatingly unpredictable; she never knows what she'll find out next. He's her own personal never-ending scavenger hunt.

He'll take her on scavenger hunts of a sort, too. The week after he overheard her telling Callie she used to be a pretty good pool player in college, he takes her to his favorite slightly disreputable pool hall. After that they go fairly often, and he watches, amused, as she struts around the table in her tight jeans and little t-shirts, and trades insults and innuendo with the onlookers. He doesn't mind her flirting, as long as she saves the steamiest glances for him, and he only steps in when someone's getting too friendly for her taste. She loves that she can reclaim the daring, impetuous parts of herself with him, and loves it even more that he doesn't expect her to be daring and impetuous all the time.

Alex, refreshingly, has very few expectations of her… outside of work, that is. He's just as happy spooning on the couch as he is having raunchy sex (or at least he does a damn fine job of pretending it). When they do have sex, he's just as eager to get her out of boxers and a t-shirt as he is to get her out of lingerie. He doesn't mind when she wants to spend a lazy morning in bed; he'll either join her or go for a run. He doesn't expect her to be witty or charming or sexy or strong. He'll call her on her crap, sure, and make it clear when he disagrees, but he rarely dismisses her out of hand.

With him she can just be Addison. She realizes now that she's really missed that, being Addison, with no one to please or impress, with nothing magnificent to accomplish. It's such a…well, such a _relief. _

Suddenly, Addison's jolted out of her reverie by a drop of moisture hitting her bare leg, and she realizes with a start that she's been crying, maybe even for a while. It's not a dramatic lightbulb moment or anything; she doesn't suddenly realize that she's passionately in love with Alex and go rushing out to find him, but she's aware of how empty the suite feels without him, how the memory of his scornful stare and hasty exit makes her stomach hurt. She's not ready to say those three terrifying words, she thinks as she steals the t-shirt from his side of the bed, but someday, maybe someday, she might be.

Only now she doesn't have the right to hope, she realizes with a sinking heart, because there's one expectation that even Alex has: not to be treated like a cheap accessory by the one person who's supposed to care about him the most.

* * *

Alex lets himself quietly into the suite using the extra keycard Addison gave him. He tried knocking first, but getting no response this early in the morning left him a little uneasy. Of course, when he gets into the living area he knows immediately why Addison didn't answer the door.

She's asleep in the big armchair, her long limbs somehow tucked in around her, with an assortment of empty minibar bottles at her feet. She's wearing nothing but his old green t-shirt and mascara tracks made by tears.

Seeing the evidence of what she must have gone through last night, he feels a pang of remorse. He meant what he said, and he doesn't regret it, but he didn't want her to suffer quite this much. Carefully, he squats down in front of the chair and gently shakes her shoulder. "Addison. Hey, Addison."

Her eyes flutter open. "Alex?" She blinks at him blearily and slowly begins to stretch. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Why else would I be here?"

"Uh, no reason, I guess. I just thought, after last night…"

"Last night I was pissed. I'm not as pissed anymore."

"Oh." She seems alarmingly close to tears. "I just thought…"

"What?"

"Derek. When Derek left, it was like that, with the door slamming and everything. He never came back. I guess I was afraid of that happening all over again."

He frowns. "Addison, I'm not Shepherd."

"I know. I know, Alex."

"I thought last night would have made that obvious to you," he points out dryly

"It did. And thank God," she says wryly.

Now he's confused. "What?"

"After you left last night, Alex, I thought about a lot of things, about what you said, and what I said, about what we're doing." She pauses. "You're so brave, Alex. You can say 'screw you' and mean it, and have no regrets. You have no idea how much I envy that. Nearly every single thing I've ever done in my _entire _life has been to please other people, fit in, meet expectations. It's really hard to break that pattern after nearly forty years." She takes a deep breath. "I think that's part of the reason why I let last night happen."

"And the other part?"

"The other part is, and I hate myself for this, so much, is that I'm afraid the things those idiots were saying, that you said, well…maybe they're not so far off base. You are much younger than I am, Alex, and I guess I'm just afraid that that distance, and what it means both personally and professionally, will make what we're doing impossible. No matter how long we're together, there's always going to be people who stare and make asides. How do we know that I won't start listening one day, or that you won't hate me for it?"

Although her confession stings, he admires her honesty. The least he can do is answer in kind. "We don't," he says simply.

"I don't want to hurt you, Alex, and I don't want myself hurt. I've had enough of that, even if most of it was my own fault."

"Addison, I can't promise I won't ever hurt you, okay? We'll end up hurting each other whatever happens. I can promise to always be straight with you." He smiles a bit. "You know I'm cool with doing that, right?" At her answering, if watery, smile, he continues. "Look, I know I've always said I hate it when chicks want to do that whole talking thing, but I'd rather you be straight with me about stuff like this, too. Hiding it isn't going to do either of us any favors. He swallows. "But hey, if you think that's too much, if you want to end this, you just say so, and I'll go back to just being the guy who gets your labs. Well, eventually, anyway," he amends, with a small, crooked grin.

"I don't want that, Alex."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure of much, but I'm sure I don't want that."

"Well, okay then." He looks around, and his eyes fall on the tie pooled on the carpet. "Hey, look what I found," he says.

"Oh, God," Addison half-groans, resting her head in her hands, "that tie. Seriously, Alex, just get rid of it."

"Nah, might need it sometime. Thing is, though, I'm not generally a tie kind of guy."

"Yeah, I know. It was a stupid impulse buy, Alex, nothing more. No ulterior motive, I swear. At least not when I bought it," she cringes, opening one eye to peer at him. "God, I hate myself," she mutters.

"Hey, now, honesty takes balls, Dr. Montgomery. And it's much sexier than that spazzy avoiding thing you used to do."

"Well, that's a relief."

"I thought it might be," he says smugly, just for the sake of her reaction; at the sight of her half-amused, half-indignant gaze his lips quirk upward. But then he sobers. "Look Addison," he begins, moving a tad closer. "At work, you're my boss, and I respect that; you're supposed to critique, advise, make me better. Outside of the hospital, you don't have to do any of that. Well, not as much, anyway," he amends. "And it's not on you if I screw up. I didn't start this thing with you because I wanted some extra tutoring, you know. I just wanted you. And your extremely hot bod," he smirks.

"Very funny. But seriously Alex, it's going to be really hard just to check our work dynamic at the hospital exit."

"Nah, it'll be easy. You smack me when I'm being a smug, annoying pain in the ass and I'll smack you when you're being a superior, elitist, you know, bitch. Problem solved." He sends her a teasing grin.

"Huh." She makes a show of considering that, then gives him a lopsided smile. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

"I guess so."

They're both quiet, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, she says, "You know what I found out last night, Alex?"

"What?"

"Your not being here _sucks._"

He laughs at her vehemence, and decides that she hasn't _quite_ slept off all the alcohol yet. "I can see that. You've got a nice collection of bottles here, Dr. Montgomery."

"Oh, God. So that's why it feels like someone is tap dancing around in my head."

"Yup."

"Well, at least there's an explanation."

She struggles to her feet, staggering a bit, and Alex decides there's no point in her falling and hurting herself. "You want a ride?" he offers.

She stares at him, uncomprehending, so he just picks her up and carries her into the bedroom. After he deposits her on the bed, there's silence for a bit, and then: "Did you just carry me to bed?" she asks wonderingly.

"I did."

"Nobody does that. I'm all huge and Godzilla-like."

"Nah, babe. You're much hotter than Godzilla. Even with mascara all over your face," he adds with a smirk.

She immediately tries to shoot out of bed, but he gets to her first. "Relax, it'll wait. You should sleep."

"Sleep," she purrs, sinking back into the pillows. Then, "Will you stay?"

He smiles a bit. "Sure," he says, and climbs into bed beside her.


	5. Double Trouble

**Title**: All the Difference

**Author**: slimwhistler

**Pairing**: Alex/Addison

**Disclaimer**: They belong to Shonda and friends, not me.

In the same universe as All the Difference and Tempering. There's actually supposed to be another piece between Tempering and this one, but I haven't completely figured that one out yet. Plus, I've had a chronic health condition flare up, so I felt like indulging myself with snippets starring little Montgomery-Karevs. No beta on this; for some reason I wanted it to be a total surprise, so if you have complaints, come to me. A few of the sections are dialogue-only, and I know the title and names are kind of corny, but that's just the way things worked out. ;o)

Feedback would be like all the yummy things I can't eat right now, and make me very happy.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

_Breaking the News:_

"Twins?" Alex stares, looking dumbstruck. "Seriously?"

"Twins," Addison confirms. "As in, you know, two babies?"

"Yeah. Yeah, two. Wow. Two. Huh."

He looks as though he might just slide from his barstool and land in a stunned heap on the floor. Half-amused, half anxious, Addison bites her lower lip and tries not to giggle at the image; she has a feeling she might become a little hysterical if he doesn't say something of substance quite soon. "Alex? Say something, will you please?" she asks a bit desperately.

"Um, wow. Well, I'm really glad I'm in a bar right now. Hey Joe, can I get a whiskey over here? A large one?"

Okay, so not exactly what she was hoping for, but at least he's not babbling any longer. It's something, anyway.

Joe comes over with the drink, glancing between the two of them. "Problem?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Not exactly," Addison replies wryly as Alex gulps at his drink. "Twins. Daddy here hasn't gotten over the shock yet."

Joe immediately brightens. "No kidding? Hey, that's great. Congratulations. Man, wait 'til "I tell Walter there'll be more twins in the family. He'll be thrilled." He turns to Alex. "Hey, don't worry, man. Twins are great. I mean, there's twice the mess and twice the noise and everything, and you almost never get any sleep, or sex, but…it's amazing." He grins at them before ambling away, whistling under his breath. He's clearly tickled.

Addison smiles softly and turns back to Alex. He's staring into his empty glass as though he finds it infinitely fascinating. "Hey. You okay over there?" she asks quietly.

He looks up and gives her a crooked little smile. "Yeah. Sorry I shorted out on you there for a sec. I just…I never thought about two, you know?"

"I know." She pauses. "Do you mind?" She tries to ask casually, but she's pretty sure she comes across as nervous anyway.

His eyes snap up to meet hers. "What? No. I mean, it's pretty awesome, right? Just a little, you know, nervous is all."

Addison chuckles. "That's pretty normal."

He regards her seriously. "But I mean, for me…am I gonna be able to do it right with two? You know I never had much of an example growing up, and with two at once…I might totally screw them up."

"Well, it'll probably happen anyway, whether we have two or one."

He grimaces. "Yeah, I know, but…"

Leaning forward, Addison puts one hand on his leg; the other finds his hand. "Listen, Alex. You will be _just_ fine. You're great with your sister, with her kids; they all adore you. Nate's like your little shadow, for goodness' sake. Don't you think you must be doing something right?"

"We won't get to give these two back at the end of the day, though."

"So we'll go a little crazy, like all the other parents do. Nobody's immune, no matter how prepared they think they are. And if we screw up, we won't be the first, or the last, to do so. _I_ think we can do it, anyway. You'd better think so, too, because there is no way I'm raising two babies on my own. Not without becoming very, very cranky and unleashing my ire on hapless residents, that is." She tilts her head, considering him. "So," she ventures, "you in?"

He lets out a deep breath, almost as though he's steeling himself. "I'm in." He grins at her, looking both terrified and eager. "Let's have ourselves some babies."

* * *

_Zero Hour:_

'Oh my God, I'm having a baby…_babies_' Alex thinks wildly as he careens through the halls.

He'd bolted as soon as he got the page, and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. The others had laughed at his clumsiness, his panic, and Meredith had called out "Good luck, Daddy," before collapsing in a fit of giggles with Izzie. Yang had merely looked bored and muttered something about demon-spawn, while O'Malley had gotten all flustered and looked like he was on the verge of trying to say something supportive. Of the three, Alex isn't sure which reaction he preferred.

At least they gave him something to think about. He pauses outside the delivery room and leans against the wall, scrubbing his hands over his face. 'Thirty weeks is okay,' he tells himself, 'they'll be okay.' He can't afford to fall apart in there. Addison needs him. One of them has to stay sane.

For Alex has discovered that Addison and excessive hormones don't always mix very well. One minute she'll be dreamily considering names and paint colors, and the next she's bawling and wailing that she looks like a pudgy, doddering penguin. It doesn't matter how much ice cream he keeps in the freezer. One night, completely bewildered, he'd finally called his mother. She'd told him to simply hand Addison tissues and wait for it to pass.

He loves his mother.

Enough. Alex takes a deep breath and pastes a smirk on his face. He strolls in, finding Addison huffing and puffing away, surrounded by Torres and Bailey. Rubbing his hands together in mock anticipation he says cheerily, "All right, let's get this party _started!"_ All three women shoot him withering stares, and he smiles. Mission accomplished.

"Alex, come over here," Addison says. Her face is flushed, and the sweat is already plastering damp strands of hair to her forehead. When he reaches the bed, she grabs the front of his scrub top with such a lightning quick motion he's surprised. "Listen to me," she growls through gritted teeth, "you are never having sex again, Aleksei Karev. Do you hear me? Never, ever-aaahhh…"

Her tirade is cut off by a groan. Alex is so startled that he begins to babble. "Yeah, sure, babe, whatever you want. Sex is bad. Sex is very, very bad. Just, you know, breathe. Breathing is good. Just-" Addison's hand comes up and grips his so tightly that after a minute he's sure all circulation to the area has ceased. "Uh, Addison? Hand. Need hand. Surgeon. _Really_ need hand, here, I- thank you."

The contraction passes, and Alex brushes the damp hair from her face. "How you doing?"

Addison lets out a weak chuckle. "I'm okay, I guess." Suddenly, her eyes fill with tears. "Alex, they're too early. What if-"

"Everything's gonna be fine," he soothes. "You'll be fine, the babies will be fine. Nobody here's gonna let anything happen. Hey, if you don't believe me, remember that you've got Dr. Bailey here, _and_ Callie. Nothing and nobody tangles with them and lives to tell about it, trust me."

"You got that right," Bailey says firmly.

"Totally," agrees Callie."

"Well, all right then," Addison says gamely. "Let's have ourselves some babies!"

Alex grins, and holds her hand.

* * *

A C-section is pretty much inevitable, and that's how the babies arrive. Alex fidgets as he sits by Addison's head; this is what he _does_, and he wants more than anything to go help, wants to make sure with his own eyes and hands that his kids are going to make it. Addison just rolls her eyes at him and tells him to relax.

Both babies do make it, and without their father's intervention. They're tiny, but perfect and squalling under their own steam from the get-go. They'll have to spend some serious time in the NICU, but for the first time Alex truly believes it when he tells himself that he, Addison, Jackson Bailey and Louisa Calliope will really be just fine.

* * *

_Six Months:_

Alex has a system. As usual, he wakes up around 4:30 am and gets dressed. He kisses Addison's shoulder and whispers "going for a run," and as usual, Addison groans, mumbles "insane," and burrows back into the pillows. As usual, when he returns he heats up some bottles and turns the coffee maker on, then races upstairs to take a shower. Dressed, bottles in hand, he makes his way to the nursery. As usual, Loula's still fast asleep, but Jackson is up and babbling.

This is when usual ends, and fun starts.

"Hey, hey, little man. Up already, huh?" Jackson gives him a big, drooly smile, and Alex can't help but smile in return. Alex tickles Jackson's belly, and the baby laughs. He never would have believed it, but making your kid laugh really is some of the best medicine in the world.

"Let's get you all cleaned up so you can go see Mommy, huh? You know, you get to spend all day with Mommy today, isn't that cool? Daddy had to get up early just so he could see you guys before he has to go to work. Daddy's not as important as Mommy, you know; he can't call the shots like she does. "Course, Daddy had to go running, too. Maybe you'll come with me someday, huh? We can let your mommy and lazy Miss Loula sleep in, and we'll go to the park. Maybe if we feel nice we'll bring them back some muffins. How's that sound, Jack-Jack?"

"BAAAAA!" Jackson says agreeably. "BABABABABAA!"

Alex grins. "Good deal. That's right, wake up your silly sister, too. Okay, buddy, we'll go see Mommy, and she can give you your breakfast."

* * *

Addison stirs as the door opens, smiling sleepily when she sees a happy little face. "Well hello there," she croons.

"Hey, Mommy, look who it is, Mr. Jack, ready to face the day. He's a little hungry, though."

"I can imagine."

Alex deposits the baby on the bed and hands Addison the bottle. "You good? I'll go get Loula up, then."

Addison bites back a smile as he jogs through the door. Who would have guessed that Alex Karev would turn out to be SuperDaddy? Addison had had an inkling, of course, but most of the hospital staff still isn't over the shock.

"Come here, little guy," she says, lifting Jackson into her lap. "You hungry? We can take care of that, yes we can."

In no time at all he's going to town, sucking away like there's no tomorrow. Addison strokes his cheek. "My laid-back boy, hmmm? You're so good. Your sister got all the fussy, didn't she? I guess you're kind of like your daddy that way; he's a pretty straightforward guy, too. It's really not a bad way to be, except that it confuses us high maintenance types sometimes." She removes the bottle, and Jackson grins up at her, his mouth dribbling formula, and all of a sudden Addison feels such a surge of love for him that she pulls him close. In the doorway, Loula (and Addison _still_ thinks that name sounds like some country western singer's, but it's stuck anyway) is laughing madly as Alex lifts her high above his head and makes airplane noises.

"No," she whispers in Jack's ear, "it's really not a bad way to be at all."

* * *

_Eleven months:_

"Alex, we have to talk about Jack."

"What about him?"

"Come on, Alex, you know what I'm talking about. Loula's standing and Jack's barely trying to crawl."

"The prematurity-"

"Even if you take his prematurity into account, he's still behind. Loula's just as premature as he is."

"Every baby's different."

"Not this different, Alex. You know that. We have to take him to a specialist."

* * *

"Well, based on what I can see, as well as what you've told me, I'd have to say that there's definitely a significant level of motor impairment; its cause is most likely neurological."

"Neurological. So we're talking about what, cerebral palsy or something?"

"Most likely, yes."

"Most likely? That's all you can say?"

"Alex."

"No, okay? If this guy's gonna sit here and tell me my kid has a serious condition and the best he can say is 'most likely,' I have a problem with that."

"Dr. Karev, it's very difficult to make a conclusive diagnosis of cerebral palsy at this stage. I'll want an MRI and CT scan, but even those may not show any definite problems. We may not know for sure for another year, even two. We'll just have to see how he progresses, and what delays or deficiencies may develop over time."

"So that's it?"

"Look, I realize this is difficult. But other than his motor problems, Jackson is a happy, healthy child. He's on track socially and perceptually, certainly verbally, and he's already extremely determined. These are all very good signs."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Just keep a close eye on him for any weakening, Dr. Montgomery, and keep note of what skills he does and does not develop. I'd also start him off on physical therapy sooner rather than later. As I'm sure you know, the brain is extremely plastic, particularly at this age. The sooner Jackson learns how his muscles can and _should_ work, the better off he'll be."

* * *

Alex stares straight ahead, stony faced. His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. Addison looks blindly out of the window, her eyes filled with tears. Neither of them speaks.

From the backseat comes Jack's obliviously cheerful babbling. He says, "Geen, geen!" whenever he sees a tree or a particularly bright lawn. An avid fan of Kermit the Frog, 'green' had been Jack's first word after "mama," "dada," and "no." In fact, he liked the word so much that Alex had taken to calling him Ribbit. Thinking of this, Addison isn't sure whether to smile or cry.

When they get to the house, Addison cradles Jack close as she goes to the door. Inside, Callie looks up from where she's playing with Lou on the living room floor. "How'd it go?" she asks softly. "Is everything okay?"

Addison shakes her head. A tear slips down her cheek. "No."

* * *

Addison falls asleep curled around Jack, lulled by his soft humming and cooing. When she wakes, he's fast asleep, so she puts him carefully in his crib and goes to look for Alex.

She finds him in his "office." They still call it that, even though it's really a workout room. He's got his rowing machine and his weight bench, a sound system and a little refrigerator. Due to her insistence, the posters on the wall are framed. He's got a ratty couch and armchair too, as well as an old big screen TV that Callie bequeathed when she bought a flat screen. It's where he goes when he needs to unwind and be by himself, or so he says; Addison knows there's a playpen in here somewhere, though.

He isn't lifting weights or rowing, and he isn't stretched out on the couch in front of the TV. He's at his punching bag, pummeling the hell out of it. His shirt is soaked with sweat, and his gloves are lying discarded on the floor.

"Alex," she says, "you'll hurt yourself."

He keeps right on pummeling.

"Alek, be careful. Your hands." She only uses that nickname when she's pretty damn serious; hopefully it'll get him to stop, at least for a minute.

Sure enough, he stops, but not for the reason she thought. He turns toward her, panting. His eyes are hard. "You think I give a shit about my hands right now, Addison? You think that's what I care about?"

"Alex, look, I-"

"What good are they? Huh? Answer me that! I'm a damned neonatal surgeon, and I can't do a thing for him! There are only two things I'm good at: being a jock asshole, and being a surgeon. Neither one is worth shit right now."

"How do you think _I_ feel?" Addison explodes. "I'm not only a world class surgeon, I'm the one who carried him! I'm the one whose body betrayed him!"

"That's…that's different."

"Of course it's different! It's WORSE!!!!" She takes a deep breath. "But I am trying, as best as I damn can, not to think about that right now, because he's more important, and he needs me. And you forgot one thing you're good at, you know. You're a good father. And that's who he needs right now."

* * *

Alex works practically nonstop for the next two days. He snaps and growls at everyone, especially after he notices people giving him sympathetic looks. Eventually, they just leave him alone, which is good, because there's no way he wants people shoving platitudes in his face.

He's updating a chart at the nurse's station when he hears someone clear her throat behind him. "Dr. Karev."

"Dr. Bailey."

"Could I have a minute of your time?"

After a year under Bailey's supervision he knows an order when he hears one, so he turns around, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow in the process.

"Oh, do not give me that look, Doctor, it doesn't impress me at all. You listen up, because I mean this and I'm only going to say it once. I'm not going to tell you I know how hard this is because I don't, and I'm not going to tell you I can imagine how you must be feeling because I can't; if I were in your shoes I'd probably be out of my mind. I am going to tell you this: knock it off."

"What?"

"Knock it off. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don't have the time for it."

"In case you haven't heard, it's _Jack_ I'm worried about here."

"Jack doesn't need your worry, Alex, especially if it prevents you from giving him what he really needs right now."

"And what's that?"

"Help, Alex. He needs your help. You think that boy's going to be able to get through all the things he'll be facing without you behind him? Absolutely not! Hell, you're bullheaded enough to make twenty kids walk!"

"You think?"

"You ever known me to bullshit anybody?"

"Good point."

"Now, get out of here. Dr. Torres already cleared it with the chief. Oh, and Alex?"

"Hmmm?"

"You bring my godson in to see me sometime soon, you got that? He and his Aunt Miranda are going to have themselves a little chat."

* * *

Entering the nursery, Alex ghosts a hand over a sleeping Loula's cheek. "Sweet dreams, little girl," he murmurs. Making his way over to Jack's crib, he finds that his son's eyes are wide open. He smiles and wriggles when he sees Alex, reaching for him. "Jesus, kid, don't you ever sleep?" Jack smiles again, and Alex grins. "Okay, okay. Come on."

Plucking his son out of his crib, Alex settles them both in the big armchair Addison had insisted on installing. "Your daddy is one tired man, kiddo." Jackson's only reply is tugging at the front of Alex's shirt. He continues. "I'm sorry I flaked out on you for a while, buddy. You know that, right?" Alex sighs. "Man, here I am screwing up and you haven't even had a birthday yet! It just…it just sucks, you know? You're gonna have to deal with all this extra stuff right off, and I can't fix it, and that bothers me. A lot. It's no excuse for not hanging out with you, but it's the truth. You know what, though? I talked to this real nice lady at the hospital who's gonna be helping you, and she said it might be a good idea for the two of us to go swimming sometimes. That sound like fun?"

"No!" Jack checks quickly for Alex's reaction and then looks down, cackling away to himself.

"Tough luck, kid. We're doing it anyway," Alex mumbles. He's pretty sure Jack forgives him, because soon his little boy burrows into his chest. Alex tucks himself around him, and they both stay asleep until Addison finds them there in the morning.


End file.
